


Diversion into Discworld

by bardiclog



Category: Discworld, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:36:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bardiclog/pseuds/bardiclog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the Disc, Hex is running some particularly complex interdimensional programs. Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, several of the staff members are attempting to cast a particularly complex spell. When Snape bursts in at just the wrong moment and adds the twinging of the Dark Mark to the equation, the whole group is brought across time, space, and dimensional barriers to the Disc. Written for the Help Japan auction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diversion into Discworld

The moment Severus Snape saw the werewolf skulking around the Hogwarts corridors, he knew he had to find out what Lupin was up to.

 

Even if it meant tipping his hand to Minerva McGonagall, who happened to be present when he sighted Lupin.

 

Snape had gotten to be pretty good at moving quietly. He was vaguely cognizant that McGonagall had shifted into her Animagus form in order to better follow him and keep tabs. If she hadn't been as astute an animal as a cat, he might have managed to lose her. As things stood, he didn't want to try and risk losing track of the werewolf in the process.

 

Lupin did not go to the Headmaster's office, nor did he go to the classroom where he had once served a term as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. His course was more suspicious than that, taking him down an all-too-familiar path, where Snape had once chased Quirrell, where Dumbledore had once hidden the Philosopher's Stone. Snape felt a chill go through him at the memory; in his worst imaginings of the dangers of the werewolf, he'd never thought Lupin would turn to the Dark Lord, but he found himself considering the possibility now.

 

Lupin entered the chamber where the Stone had been kept, and Snape hovered outside the door, straining to hear.

 

“Headmaster?” That was Lupin.

 

“Ah, my boy, you managed to come.”

 

Snape felt a spark of rage at the werewolf, accompanied by a twinge of pain from his Mark, reminding him that he had intended to inform Dumbledore that he may be Summoned soon, as his Mark had been remembering itself to him through brief spike of pain every so often, an indication that the Dark Lord was considering Snape in particular or his Death Eaters in general.

 

Now was as good a time as any to inform the Headmaster. And if it just happened to coincide with walking in and getting a glimpse of what was happening with the werewolf, well, that was a bonus – or an unfortunate happenstance of timing, depending upon how one wanted to look at it.

 

Snape put his hand on the door handle, only to have someone else touch his shoulder. He whirled, wand out, to find himself facing McGonagall.

 

“I don't think Headmaster Dumbledore wanted you to intrude upon whatever it is he is doing with Lupin.” McGonagall was not even looking at the wand, acting as though it did not matter that Snape was threatening her. 

 

With a huff, Snape lowered his wand. “You'd do best not to startle me, particularly when I am on edge already.”

 

“Did I manage that?”

 

Snape raised an eyebrow, but declined to comment further. He turned back to the door, reaching once again for the handle.

 

“Severus...”

 

He did not turn around. “I have a report to make to Albus Dumbledore concerning my duties as the Order's spy. So unless you are the Order's new expert in things pertaining to the Dark Mark and my duties as spy...”

 

McGonagall sighed. “Be it on your head, then.”

  


Snape had expected some measure of dismay or denial when he walked through the door. He did not expect the instant fear he caused; Dumbledore's bellow of “Severus, out!”; Remus leaping at him, Remus's hands on him, shoving him back out the door-

 

The pain from the Mark rose again, this time into the full pain of a Summoning.

 

And the world went white.

 

* * *

 

Ponder Stibbons frowned at the paper in his hand. “Oh dear.”

 

Something had gone wrong.

 

Something had been summoned and dropped into the city.

 

Something from another world entirely.

 

Protocol was clear on this sort of thing. Ponder Stibbons was responsible for telling the Arch-Chancellor, which meant trying to explain things to Mustrum Ridcully.

 

Who would probably then delegate him to go and inform Vetinari, as protocol also clearly stated that the necessary officials of the city must be informed in such a case.

 

“Oh dear,” Ponder said again.

 

* * * 

 

As Snape drifted into awareness, he kept his eyes closed, kept his breathing even. If he was a prisoner, he didn't want to give up the advantage of seeming to be asleep when he was actually aware of his surroundings.

 

It didn't sound like a prison, though. Snape could hear the rumble of carts and the sound of voices. The air was heavy with some sort of scent – not as clean and crisp as Diagon Alley, but reminding him of that far more than the streets of Muggle cities. A street, yes, that was where he was. Laying on cobblestones. And there was someone else's hand on his shoulder. Why would there be a hand on his shoulder?

 

Memory returned then, still somewhat sluggish. Snape managed to keep from grimacing or jerking away when he realized it was probably the werewolf's hand on his shoulder. Instead, he slit his eyes open.

 

A little old man with a twinkle in his eyes that reminded Snape far too much of Dumbledore's was looking down at Snape.

 

“You seem to have made it through all right. That's something.”

 

Snape gave up the pretense of being unconscious and instead jerked himself away from the werewolf. Lupin groaned and stirred.

 

“Where is this place?”

 

“Ankh-Morpork. The biggest metropolis on the Disc.”

 

Snape glanced around him, not much more impressed with this than with any other metropolis he had seen. “I don't suppose you would have any idea how we came here?”

 

“A joint thaumaturgic disruption across both worlds. Nothing to worry about, I'm sure, provided everyone manages to keep out of trouble and such.”

 

Lupin groaned again, moving enough to distract Snape from glaring at the strange man. When he turned back, the man had gone, and Lupin was sitting up.

 

“Severus?”

 

“What were you playing at?”

 

“Playing...”

 

“What did you do that made us end up here?”

 

Remus winced, the contortion almost making Snape feel sorry for him. Almost. “It was more Dumbledore than any of the rest of us. And you.”

 

“I was certainly not-”

 

“The reason Dumbledore didn't involve you was because of your Mark. You came in when it was flaring, didn't you?”

 

“Rather it flared when I entered the room. You are not explaining.”

 

“I am trying – I still don't quite understand. Only that Albus asked for my help, because of the particular energies emitted by a werewolf – he was trying something, I think. Something to help Harry.”

  


“Why does it always come down to Potter?” Snape stood and brushed himself off, checking to be sure that his wand was still in his pocket. Thinking again, he pulled out the wand and tried a quick cleaning charm, breathing a sigh of relief when it worked. “We'd best see if we can gain some more perspective.”

 

“We'd best look for Albus, you mean?”

 

“You think he came through as well?”

 

“I would not be astonished, with the amount of power in that room...”

 

* * *

 

Something was resting against Hagrid's hand. Something small, with scales. Hagrid opened his eyes to find himself looking at a fine figure of a woman – not quite as large as his Olympe, but still plenty large and imposing for a human woman. What caught his interest even more was the scaly creature cradled in her hands.

 

“Blimey, what kind of a dragon is that?” he asked, gazing at it with awe.

 

“A swamp dragon, and you're lucky you didn't make him explode from the excitement. What are you doing in my dragon pen?"

 

"Dragon..." Hagrid turned his head to get a better look around himself, and found several of the tiny dragons staring back at him. "Blimey, they're all lovely little mites, aren't they?"

 

The woman's face softened ever so slightly. "That they are." Then she frowned. "That still doesn't tell me what you're doing there."

 

Hagrid pondered this a moment. "Bit o' magic gone awry, I expect."

 

"You're involved with those wizards up at the University, then?"

 

"University? Nah. Hogwarts, best school o' magic around, particularly under Dumbledore. I'm Keeper o' the Keys and Grounds."

 

"Never heard of it."

 

"Never heard o' Hogwarts? What sort o' backwater is this, then, when you never heard o' Great Britain's finest magic school?"

 

"Ankh-Morpork, and I believe I read recently that we are the most cosmopolitan city this side of the Disc, so not quite a backwater at all."

 

"Blimey, I must've hit my head harder'n I thought."

 

The woman considered him a moment, then, "You may as well come in and we'll see what can be done about that. I'll warn you, though, my husband Sam is coming home soon, so you'd best not try anything fresh."

 

"Last thing on my mind," Hagrid assured her. He had a feeling she would make an excellent colleague - in fact, she reminded him somewhat of Professor Grubbly-Plank, though this woman had more of her own limbs attached - but she wasn’t his Olympe.

 

* * *

 

Albus Dumbledore rarely allowed events to throw him mentally off-balance, and the moment he came to he was patting his pockets to ensure that everything important had come through with him. Wand? Check. Sherbert lemons? Check. He was ready to surmount whatever obstacle this place may offer him.

 

Now if only he knew what had become of his colleagues...

 

A glance around revealed that an eighth color had joined the seven with which he happened to be familiar, and was in fact hovering in a sort of mist around the closest building. Two men were hurrying towards him from that building, and Albus Dumbledore schooled his face into his most beatific smile.

 

“Here now, what are you doing on my University grounds?” one of the men demanded.

 

“I apologize. I intended no intrusion upon you.” Dumbledore fished in his robe pocket. “Sherbert lemon?”

 

“What?”

 

“Sherbert lemon?” Finding the packet, he extended it to the stranger. “They’re a personal favorite of mine.”

 

The man glared suspiciously at the packet. “They’re not healthful,” he announced after a moment’s consideration. “Which wouldn’t stop most of the others, I’m sure. but I want to be in prime condition when I go hunting the legendary phoenix.”

 

Dumbledore’s features darkened a moment, as he thought of Fawkes back home, and this strange man hunting him. He quickly smoothed away his discontent, though - it would not do to antagonize these people if they did happen to be key to getting him home, as part of him suspected they might. “Of course,” was all he allowed himself to say.

 

“Now, Ponder,” the man turned to his companion, who had until this moment kept his silence, “Is this one of them people from another world your lot brought here?”

 

“I believe so,” Ponder replied, flinching slightly.

 

“Well, then, I leave you to sort it out. I’m going to finish my morning jog.”

 

* * * 

 

Ponder Stibbons glanced wistfully after Archchancellor Ridcully - not that he wanted to take a morning jog, but it would have been nice, just once, to have one of the senior wizards take a hand in solving some of the problems around the University. Perhaps not this one, particularly, as Ponder did have to admit that it was primarily his fault. But he was cleaning up the mess even when it wasn’t.

 

The stranger was still holding out the packet of sweets. “How about you?” he asked. “Would you care for a sherbert lemon?”

 

Ponder scowled. “No.” He hated when people treated him as though he were a child - he may look young, but he was more than capable. Although, come to think of it, the stranger had offered a sweet to Ridcully as well, so perhaps the offer was not a comment on Ponder’s youth.

 

“Very well then.” The stranger pulled one of the sweets from the blob, stretching it slightly in the process, then popped it in his mouth. “Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, at your service,” the man said around a mouthful of the candy.

 

“Ponder Stibbons, Head of Inadvisably Applied Magic, among other things, at yours.”

 

“Ah, excellent, Master Stibbons. Perhaps we might go over your end of the events that brought myself - and quite possibly a number of others, who I really must find soon - here?”

 

When Ponder met Headmaster Dumbledore’s eyes, a twinge of dread assailed him. The level gaze was filled with cleverness and intelligence, and Ponder didn’t really like the thought that he might be attempting to explain things to someone who was actually cleverer than him, and who had a vested interest in the topic. Ah well, there wasn’t much for it.

 

“Come along to the High Energy Magic Building, then, and I’ll introduce you to Hex.”

 

* * * 

 

Snape and the werewolf were innocently exploring their surroundings when they were accosted by a pair of guards. The first looked like he spent more time mainlining doughnuts than guarding, and the second made Snape wonder whether he was an unfortunate cross between a house elf and a goblin.

 

“Here now, you don’t want to be going in there,” the plump one said.

 

“That’s the Shades, that is,” agreed the other.

 

“The Shades?” Snape used the snide tone he had developed for use with particularly annoying students. Which just happened to be most of them.

 

“Where’re you from that you don’t know the Shades, mister?” Being eyed by the smaller one was not quite a pleasant experience.

 

Lupin answered. “Great Britain.”

 

The men looked at each other, and the round one said, “Magical accident? I think you might be some of the people Mister Vimes was talking about. I’m Sergeant Colin, and this is Corporal Nobbs, Nobby for short.”

 

A brief expectant silence. Remus, predictably, stepped in. “Remus Lupin and Severus Snape. Something magical happened on this side of things as well?”

 

“It’s those wizards.” Sergeant Colin gave a shudder, which was rather a lot of shudder considering his body mass. Then he shuddered again. “And we're to take you to the Patrician.”

 

“Sarge?”

 

“Yes, Nobby?”

 

“Do we have to go to the Patrician?”

 

“Orders are that if the strangers are found, they're to be brought before him.” The man appeared to consider the matter. “Though I think that's really a job for the brass. The Patrician doesn't want to see our lot. We'll bring 'em to Mister Vimes, or Captain Carrot.”

 

“Good thinking, Sarge.”

 

Snape briefly considered casting a surreptitious spell or two and getting away from the pair of guards, but decided to bide his time. They hadn't confiscated his wand, which meant that either they didn't consider it a threat (in which case he didn't like to tip his hand) or else they were not planning to bring him somewhere that he would be tempted to use it against people.

 

They led him to a guardhouse, where a young woman in sergeant's stripes was at the desk. “Got something for Mister Vimes, Sergeant Angua.”

 

“Thank you, Sergeant Colin and Corporal Nobbs.” The woman eyed both of them, but turned her attention mostly to Remus. She actually stood up and stepped closer to him, tilting her head slightly.

 

Why was it that the werewolf had all the luck with women? Not that Snape was really interested in this particular woman – but he remembered Lupin having more than his share of prospects. Probably something to do with how Lupin was distinguished-looking, while Snape had an oversized nose and nothing like a werewolf's metabolism.

 

Lupin actually stepped back, away from the woman.

 

“No, hold still.” She scowled, sniffing the air. Sniffing? Snape glanced at Lupin. His nostrils were twitching too, though he was not being so obvious about it.

 

“You smell... odd.” The woman slanted a suspicious glance up at Lupin.

 

“I'm afraid it would be terribly rude to inform you I was just thinking the same about you.”

 

The woman snorted.

 

Snape narrowed his eyes. “You'll have to forgive him. He's a werewolf, and they don't often learn proper manners.”

 

Lupin blanched, and Snape felt a smug satisfaction at having gotten back at him. But the woman's sharp gaze was now focused on Snape. And why were the other two men backing towards the door?

 

“Some werewolves have no manners,” the woman growled. “My father, for instance, would be eating you for breakfast right about now. You're lucky that I've sworn off that kind of behavior, or I might be tempted to make a snack of you myself.”

 

“You're a werewolf?” Lupin's voice broke in.

 

“Yes. I don't usually tell people... when they hear there's a werewolf in the watch, they usually look at Nobby over there... but since you're a fellow werewolf...”

 

At that moment, two more figures entered the room. The girl turned, and favored the larger of the pair with quite a welcoming smile. “Carrot. Commander Vimes.”

 

“Who are these people?” Vimes demanded, glaring at Snape and Lupin.

 

“They were talking about Great Britain, Commander, and how they came from there. And we were thinking that maybe you would like to be the one to bring them to the Patrician, on account of Nobby and I aren't really the sort he likes to look at.”

 

Vimes narrowed his eyes as he looked at them. “Very well. Captain Carrot?”

 

“Sir.”

 

“You take over here. I'll bring Sergeant Angua to help me with our guests.”

 

Captain Carrot saluted smartly, and then Snape and Lupin found themselves being led back out of the guardhouse.

 

“We could take a carriage,” Vimes said, “But I'd just as soon walk.” And he started a jaunty walk, swinging his legs, whistling a bit.

 

“Commander's always glad when he gets a chance to walk the streets,” Angua confided in a low tone to them.

 

They walked until they reached a moderately imposing palace. More imposing was the coach outside, obviously expensive, branded with a “V.”

 

Lupin cleared his throat. “This Patrician... wouldn't happen to be a bit of a megalomaniac, would he?”

 

Vimes halted, spun to favor them with a predatory grin. “I think he'd consider that a compliment, yes.”

 

“Bent on obtaining power and immortality?”

 

“I've heard that said.”

 

“Rather snake-like?”

 

“You'll fear just like a pair of mice when you go before him.”

 

“And that's his coach, is it?”

 

“Indeed it is.”

 

“His initial?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Lupin and Snape exchanged bleak looks before Sergeant Angua started prodding them along. Snape felt again for his wand. Not that it would do him much good. Not against Voldemort. Particularly not a Voldemort who had managed to take charge of a whole city.

 

They were ushered into an audience room, and when they finally laid eyes on the Patrician they both breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief. Then Snape took a second look at the man and wondered if maybe he had relaxed too soon. There was something about the man that spoke of a kind of relentless determination, a cold cunning in his eyes, a look that Voldemort rarely got but one which meant trouble when he did have it. Snape was unaware that his own features were taking on a similar look, a mirror to this Patrician's.

 

“So. These are the visitors from another world.” The Patrician stepped forward to get a better look at them.

 

“Sir,” Vimes said.

 

“How very interesting. Is there a particular reason you came to visit our fine city?”

 

Lupin was standing there uselessly, leaving Snape to answer. “A magical accident brought us here.”

 

“Indeed. And what were your intentions upon arriving?”

 

“To find our way back home.”

 

“Ah, yes. I am certain the wizards at the Unseen University would be more than willing to help you.” The man's eyes narrowed. “My city runs well, gentlemen, and I will not have you clogging up the clockwork that makes it run.” Then he relaxed, marginally, although Snape doubted this man ever truly relaxed. “As long as you do no harm to my city, however, I have no objections to you being here.” He looked at Snape again. “I don't suppose you play chess.”

 

“On occasion.”

 

“Well. Perhaps we might have a game if you are here for any length of time and I can work myself up to the excitement.” One last look, and then the man turned away. “Do not let me detain you.”

 

And Vimes was hustling them out of there.

 

“What was that?” Lupin asked, sounding dazed.

 

“You could have said something.”

 

“I...” Lupin shook his head, like a dog shaking off water.

 

“Come along and I'll bring you to the University. And then I'm going home.”

 

* * * 

 

Vimes considered that he had done his civic duty for the day. There had been another stranger with the wizards, who had seemed only too glad to have the others with him. And now it was getting to be the most important time of the day. Vimes quickened his step, wanting to get home in time, picturing young Sam in his blanket, waiting.

 

For once, he managed to arrive early. Just as well, as there was a moderate difficulty for his brain to process.

 

Sybil was not alone in the kitchen, but was sitting across from the largest man Vimes had ever seen. The man had a swamp dragon cuddled into his abundant beard, and was sipping tea from a cup that was dwarfed (no offense intended to the dwarfish race, I'm sure) by his immense hand.

 

“Wha-”

 

“Oh, Sam, there you are, good. This is Hagrid. I'm thinking of hiring him on as kennel help, if he's here for any length of time. He's got quite a touch with the dragons.”

 

“How d'ya do,” Hagrid said, raising his cup in greeting.

 

“I...” Vimes blinked rapidly, and felt his internal clock twinge. “I have to read to young Sam. I'll speak with you after that.”

 

Tonight's rendition of “Where's My Cow” went smoothly, as Vimes very consciously did not turn it into a rendition of “Where's The Strange People Who Seem to be Invading Ankh-Morpork?” With young Sam safely tucked in and slumbering, Vimes went downstairs to deal with the visitor in his kitchen.

 

“Do the names Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, and Remus Lupin mean anything to you?” Vimes automatically entered questioning mode.

 

“Yep. Albus Dumbledore's the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen.”

 

“Yes, he was talking about some strange places earlier, Sam. I thought he must have hit his head.”

 

“No. There was some sort of accident at the Unseen University, and the wizards brought them from somewhere else. The rest of them are at the University now, trying to figure out a way back.”

 

“Guess I'd better join them,” Hagrid said, looking sadly at the dragon cradled in his arms and giving it a couple pats. “Shame to leave these beauties, though.”

 

“If you have any troubles getting back, stop by here and I'll give you a job,” Sybil told him. “It is a shame – I'd send a couple back with you, but I'm afraid that with the excitement of inter-dimensional travel they might well explode.”

 

“Maybe I'll get a chance to come say good-bye. There, lad, you go back in your bed. Don't look at me like that. Don't I wish I could stay here and hold you.”

 

* * *

 

Albus Dumbledore peered at the readout. “Four of us? You are certain?”

 

“Hex is certain, and he knows better than us.”

 

“McGonagall was behind me,” Snape said.

 

“And Hagrid was in the room with us,” Lupin added, “so it could be either of them.”

 

“And you are certain that we all must go back?”

 

“It's all or nothing, according to Hex. The universe wants to put you back where you belong, so it won't take a lot of power, but the universe wants you all back.”

 

Snape felt Dumbledore's gaze on him. “I know you were free from the Dark Mark here. Are free. And you do not know how much I wish that I could give you the choice to stay here, freed from past mistakes. Perhaps we could all find a place here...”

 

“Then our world would be doomed,” Snape replied flatly, touching his fingers to what had become, for a brief while, just a strange tattoo. “Potter and his friends can't be trusted on their own. They need all the help they can get.” Again it was coming back to Potter. “Even if you could leave me here...” Snape took in a breath, trying to picture living without people knowing he had been a Death Eater, without having to scurry to a madman's bidding every time his forearm twinged. “Even if you could leave me here, it would not be advised. You know the difficulties inherent in getting another operative inside the Dark Lord's fold. I am too valuable an asset to leave behind.”

 

“You are more valuable than you know.” For a moment, Dumbledore's tone and expression betrayed his true age. He quickly shifted back to the more familiar overly-energetic version of himself that they knew so well. “So, our mission becomes to find the last member of our party-”

 

“Here, Professor.” Hagrid walked in, trailed by Commander Vimes.

 

“Looks like I did the hard bit for you,” the commander said.

 

“His wife keeps swamp dragons. Beautiful creatures-”

 

If Snape didn't cut in, Hagrid would ramble all night, and they might never get home. “If we could all focus on the task at hand...”

 

That won him several looks, all of which he ignored.

 

“Very well, if you all would go stand over there, I'll just start putting the numbers into Hex...”

 

* * * 

 

When Snape woke again, he was in the infirmary. Hagrid's snoring rattled the potion containers. Minerva McGonagall was standing over him.

 

“You all just vanished. I was worried about the lot of you.”

 

From somewhere else in the room, Dumbledore cleared his throat. “So good of you to worry, Minerva. And quite a tale it is...”


End file.
